


Working Vacation

by Mossley



Category: G.I. Joe (Marvel Comics)
Genre: Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24217459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossley/pseuds/Mossley
Summary: “May you live in interesting times,” was an ancient Chinese curse for a reason. Marvel Universe, Flint/LJ, Scarlett, Cross Country, Alpine, Doc, Zarana. Takes place after Scarlett awakens from her coma but before the fatal mission in Benzheen.
Relationships: Dashiell "Flint" R. Faireborn/Alison "Lady Jaye" R. Hart-Burnett
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A way overdue Christmas story for Hagan99, who requested something involving the Soviet Union. This was the closest I could come up with. Sorry I took so long to post anything, but it never came together the way I wanted it to. It wasn't getting any better just sitting on my hard drive.  
> A/N II: amykay saw a very rough draft of this, but the story has never had a beta. All mistakes are mine and mine alone.

To be blunt, the Balkans were going to hell.

From her clifftop vantage point overlooking the Adriatic Sea, Lady Jaye gazed to the east restlessly. She was way too far away to see any signs of the troubles, but she knew the situation was bad. If nothing else, she had heard some things about Snakes Eyes’ mission in Borovia before her flight out, and that proved the ethnic violence spreading over the region was worse than feared.

Not that the violence in itself was surprising. The intelligence community knew that ethnic problems were always an issue in the Soviet Union – by design. It had been the linchpin in Joseph Stalin’s plans to keep the empire together. More than one hundred distinct ethnic groups fell under the Soviet’s control, and as much as they disliked Moscow, their historical grudges went deeper.

Stalin’s cruel genius was using that to his advantage. He had millions of minorities displaced – no one had any idea exactly how many, but it was known that at least one million people died in the process. Ingushs, Poles, Chechens, Tartars, Kalmyks, Greeks and Koreans were a just a handful of the ethnic groups forcefully moved from their homes. Often they were placed amid their traditional enemies, and almost always away from their allies.

One group in any region was always given special favor over the others, and it was usually a minor ethnicity. Officials turned a blind eye to abuses heaped on one group by another. The Soviets encouraged the same behavior in their satellite countries. In short, it created a situation where the various ethnic minorities were too busy fighting with each other to ever join forces to oppose Moscow.

And it worked – as long as the Red Army and KGB prevented things from getting out of hand. But with the collapse of the Soviet Union, no one was there to keep order. For all the Communist cheerleading of equality, the truth was very few people rose to positions of power unless they were Rus – ethnic Russians. The prohibition was so strong that Stalin had had his own family and childhood friends murdered to hide the truth that he himself was Georgian, not Russian.

This favoring for Rus leaders meant the various armies in the Warsaw Pact and the breakaway regions were full of soldiers but not enough officers to lead. The Communist overseers of the legal system were trying to flee before the inevitable retribution for their abuses started. There was no law, no police, no military.

Without Moscow’s controlling presence, people were finally venting the decades’ worth of pent-up aggression fostered by the Soviets, and the level of brutality staggered even those who had expected some sort of trouble.

Shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight, Lady Jaye wondered if the Joes were going to get involved. It wasn’t their normal type of mission, but who knew how many Americans might be stuck in the firefights. There were teams already staging in Germany, on alert over the tensions between Trucial Abysmia and Benzheen, and they could easily change targets.

_And I’m stuck here._

Turning around, she noticed the waiter approaching her fretfully, his smile strained as he hurried to join her on the terrace. Giving him a faint wave, she let herself be herded back inside the hotel and shook her head at another waiter approaching with a tray loaded with glasses of champagne.

Okay, _here_ wasn’t exactly a horrible location. A seaside resort on the Italian coast was generally considered nice, certainly compared to some of the hellholes she’d been stuck in while on missions. But glancing around, she noted the dated decor and lack of modern amenities with a bit of distaste. This hotel had been one of the spots to be seen during her great-grandmother Adele’s heydays, back before there were jets for the jet-set to enjoy. Now it was a bit of a sad reminder of the past. The Edwardian mammoth stood in stark contrast to the graceful older buildings of the town. Hell, it even had roque courts, and those were usually only found in the better class of haunted mountain locales.

But Adele wanted one last visit, and the undisputed matriarch of the Hart-Burnett clan had cajoled a large number of relatives to join her. Lady Jaye hadn’t been too interested in going, and she had given the somewhat realistic excuse that she didn’t think she’d be able to get off. Adele, however, sweetly threatened to call General Abernathy personally – she claimed to know some of the Colorado Abernathy family, and she most likely did – and Lady Jaye knew her great-granny _never_ bluffed.

It was Psyche-Out who sealed her fate, overhearing her talking to Duke about the leave request. He pointed out she was overdue for a vacation and needed to take some time off – now! She strongly suspected her tensions with Flint over the Lieutenant Gorky incident might have played a role in the shrink’s desire to see the two of them spend some time apart – or at least out of his hearing. So, in short order, she was packed, hitched a ride on one of the planes heading to Germany, then herded onto a train heading for the Adriatic Sea.

And her forced vacation hadn't been completely horrible. True, the phone service was pathetic. Her lumbering lout of a lover had resorted to sending Lady Jaye a wire letting her know that Scarlett was out of her coma, but she hadn’t been able to get a line to the hospital to talk with her. Just knowing her friend was awake helped cheer her up and made the trip more enjoyable.

It didn't hurt that the weather was perfect, sunny and clear with gentle breezes. Sailing in the mornings with her father had been enjoyable, as had trouncing a pair of rude cousins in tennis doubles with her mother. Horseback rides along the beach in the evenings gave her time for her own thoughts. There were promises of heading to Rome and Milan for shopping trips. The food alone was enough to have made Roadblock cry in joy and the wine list would send him to heaven.

She was wondering about the logistics of sending him a care package as she surveyed the table laden with an afternoon tea – talk about dated routines! Lady Jaye helped herself to some more cheese tart, frowning slightly as she noticed another waiter discouraging people from the terrace.

_It doesn’t look like rain …_

“At least there’s one benefit to your career choice, Alison. You can eat whatever you want,” came her mother’s voice from behind her.

“Yes. One benefit,” she answered tightly.

Of course, it wasn’t a coincidence that great-granny Adele arranged an outing that highlighted all the family had to offer just before Lady Jaye’s re-enlistment was due to come up. No one had said anything, of course, but the meaning wasn’t lost on her – ‘You’re one of us. Live like it.’

She frowned as two waiters rushed by, talking quietly in a Germanic dialect. Well, with all the ethnic disturbances, it wasn't surprising that groups were escaping to other countries.

Her mother gave her an amused look, completely undeterred either by Lady Jaye’s impatient response or distracted observance as the waiters headed out of the room. “Well, you do get free clothing, too,” Elizabeth Hart-Burnett replied lightly, “but that’s not much of a benefit when you only get khaki.”

“I was wondering when you’d start. The family is usually more subtle than all this,” Alison said, waving her free hand to indicate the resort.

“Don’t be like that, darling. Your great-grandmother wanted to come here one more time while she was still able,” she said kindly. Her smile wavered as she took in the area. “All right, it’s not Telluride, but she likes it.”

Alison shared her smile, united in their distaste for the place. “And I like my life. Is that so hard to believe?”

“We don’t know what to believe, love. You used to be so,” she paused, considering her words carefully, “so driven. No one who knew you as a child would ever believe you’d be happy being a 'personnel clerk'.”

Lady Jaye raised an eyebrow slightly, but didn’t give any other response to the implied question in her mother’s voice. She always doubted her parents bought her cover story. She had never told them the reality of her position and wasn’t planning on doing so now. “I’m happy with my career. Isn’t that enough?”

“Is it, though?”

Alison rolled her eyes as the first waiter stepped into the doorway leading to the terrace, effectively blocking her retreat. Even Adele’s velvet reign of terror hadn’t been enough to get more than a handful of aunts and cousins to attend an afternoon tea, but this wasn’t a conversation she wanted to share with any of the others. Her mother touched her arm and motioned to a small table partially hidden behind large potted plants, and they slipped into the chairs quietly.

“Okay, Mom. If you think I’m unhappy at my job, why do you think I’m keeping it?”

“Is it that man you’re seeing?”

“You can’t believe I’m basing my career around a man!” Lady Jaye stated angrily.

Elizabeth remained unperturbed; she had, after all, survived her daughter’s temper since Alison’s childhood. “Like I said, we don’t know what to believe. You’re still sleeping with him, so it’s more than a passing fancy. But you’ve never brought him home to meet us. That is a first.”

Lady Jaye closed her mouth quickly. Of course, the downside of using hotels owned by her mother's side of the family was the family knew all the details. “I can’t believe you’re spying on us,” she said, knowing full well her Grandfather Ravenhearst would do so. As much as the Hart-Burnett clan disliked her career choice, they reluctantly accepted it. Granddaddy, however, had offered her several substantial bribes to leave the military. _I wonder what he finds out from the maids …_

“I’d hardly call it spying,” her mother said. “All we know about this man is that he’s tall, dark and handsome. I’d like to think he’s more than some fortune cookie wisdom.”

_Well, if she wants to know so badly._ “Okay,” Alison said with a grin. “He’s loud, brash, obnoxious and has an ego the size of the Vineyard.”

Her mother continued sipping her tea calmly. “And what about his bad qualities?”

Rolling her shoulders, Lady Jaye let out a grunt. Her mother was the apex of good breeding; nothing would get a rise out of her. And the description wasn't _that_ far off. “I'm annoyed with him at the moment. He managed to piss me off recently, if you must know.”

“Well, that’s no great feat.”

She did a quick double take. Even after all her experience with the Joe team and as a covert agent, her mother still had the ability to put her in her place with no effort.

“Alison, there must be one good thing you can say about him. There has to be something about him that you’ve stayed with him this long.”

Lady Jaye considered her next words carefully. An honest answer would be, “He has bigger balls than I do,” but she doubted her mother would react well to that. How could she describe Flint in a way her mother would understand? So many of his good qualities came to light during their missions, something she couldn’t exactly detail to her mother.

“He’s loyal and dependable,” she finally said.

“Excellent qualities,” Elizabeth said dryly, “if one is looking for a pet.”

Lady Jaye smiled. “Well, he is housebroken.”

“Good, then we won’t have to send the carpets out to be cleaned after he visits,” her mother said firmly. “Your father and I want to know this man. He obviously means something to you.”

She sipped her tea slowly. “You can tell Daddy not to worry. I have no plans of running off and marrying.”

All amusement left her mother's expression. “Why would I break his heart?”

“What?” Lady Jaye couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice.

“The first thing your father did once we got you home from the hospital was start a fund to pay for your wedding. He wants to walk you down the aisle, to give you anything you want for your wedding,” Elizabeth told her. “It's going to break his heart to find out he won't get the chance.”

Lady Jaye let out a breath, forcing some of her annoyance at Flint fade. “I never said that, Mom. I wouldn't mind marrying eventually. Just not in the immediate future.”

“Do you think it will be to your fortune cookie man?”

She consider her answer carefully. Keeping her relationship with Flint quiet had been from necessity. Hawk ignored it, but that didn't change the fact it was in violation of multiple regulations. She hadn't considered her parents would mistake her caution for evasiveness.

“His name is Dashiell Faireborn. He's a Rhodes Scholar, very well-read and intelligent.”

“That's an impressive baked good,” Elizabeth deadpanned.

“He's also an officer, and we have to keep things very discreet.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Well, now I know you are serious, even if you won't admit it. You would never flaunt the rules for a fling.”

Lady Jaye chuckled. “He can be very sweet – when he isn't making me want to deck him again.”

“Again, Alison?” Her mother held up a hand to stop her response. “I think I'll assume that the 'again' meant to the feeling, not to your physical _…_ uhm _…_ ”

“Proclivities?”

Her mother let out a short sigh, a clear sign she wasn't exactly happy. “Let's get back to the subject at hand. Darling, do you think you'll marry him? I have to say, from what you've described – or not described – it doesn't sound promising.”

After closing her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts, Lady Jaye leaned towards her mother. “He's a good man, Mom. He really is. We argue, that's true, but I've never been happier with anyone else in my life. But I don't know where we'll end up,” she said softly, pausing for a few moments. “You wanted to know about his bad qualities. The worst, and the only one that really bothers me, is his jealousy.”

Elizabeth's gaze was sharp as she toyed with her tea cup for a moment. “I have a feeling he's justified in that regard.”

“What on earth would make you say that?”

“Alison, dear, let's be honest. You crave attention. It's why you loved the stage so much. Not many men enjoy watching their significant other lavishing in the praise of another.”

“It wasn't like that!”

“Then tell me what it was like.”

“Eh.” How to explain Lieutenant Gorky? _Well, Mom, I was working with a team of Soviet elite agents against a crazy European leader in a Dayglo-colored outfit who was trying to raid a South American countryside of its resources, and a Soviet lieutenant ended up on my lap and …Oh, and let's not forget Flint's behavior while we were with Snake Eyes in New York. That had set the whole mood._ “It's … complicated?”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow significantly. “I see.”

“He _was_ being unreasonable about it,” Lady Jaye insisted, realizing her mother would never believe her – especially when she sounded like a pouting child. The rest of her response faded as she watched a waiter trot across the room to join the others on the terrace.

“Alison?”

“What? Oh, sorry,” she said distractedly, noticing that now all the waiters had disappeared . The resort was certainly past its prime, but it had always managed decent service. Something was starting to seem off to her. Not able to pinpoint any real trouble and not wanting to worry her mother, she returned to the conversation with what seemed like a safe statement. “Dash and I are a lot alike, actually.”

“And here I thought you were trying to reassure me,” her mother answered, a hint of a smile playing behind her teacup.

“Dash, … he knows how to get me from taking myself too seriously.”

“Now that is an accomplishment,” Elizabeth answered with genuine happiness.

“He’s a good man,” she finally admitted. “He does have an overactive ego, but he's also very talented. He's unique.”

Her mother leaned over the table to place her hand over her daughter's. “Do you love him, Alison?”

After a brief hesitation, she nodded her head and gave a reluctant smile. “I suppose I do.”

“And does he love you?”

And that was the rub. She wanted to believe he did, actually she was positive he did, but the lumbering idiot …

The whole issue had started in New York. They were waiting with Snake Eyes in the hospital, anxious for an update on Scarlett’s surgery after her near fatal encounter with the Baroness. They had sat in silent company as Snake Eyes alternated between pacing the floors and sitting in a chair twisting his hands anxiously.

She and Flint sat on the same sofa. He had his arm across the back of it, but they weren't touching. Never in uniform, in public – it was one of the rules of their relationship, even if self-imposed. At first he appeared the only one of the group who was calm, but it eventually dawned on her that Flint had been reading the same pamphlet on managing menopause symptoms for three hours.

Things went downhill quickly, though, when the doctor finally came out and gave them the news. It wasn't good, but then the doctor made the mistake of recommending a plastic surgeon for Snake Eyes, unaware he was the man responsible for Scarlett's condition. She had moved first, placing herself between Snake Eyes and the doctor, knowing she would be a cold smear on the floor if the enraged ninja didn't back down. Even with Flint grabbing him from behind, he could have easily overpowered both of them. But it had been enough – Snake Eyes wouldn't hurt his friends, so he stormed out of the hospital instead.

She tried to get Flint to back off. Snake Eyes' anger had been justified, but the dumb lump of a warrant officer was too worked up – she'd seen the look of terror in his eyes when she had intercepted Snake Eyes – and Flint needed to vent. Unfortunately, he took the wrong approach, telling Snake Eyes not to dwell on missed opportunities to tell Scarlett he had loved her.

And bless his heart, the irate ninja knew exactly how to get Flint to back off – by effectively telling him to practice what he preached. The warrant officer been left scratching his head after Snake Eyes stormed off, ignoring Lady Jaye's gentle smile.

“Should we let him go off alone? That's not the safest neighborhood,” Flint asked.

“So it'll be safer when he's through. Come on, let's get some coffee. We have a long wait before we can see Scarlett in the recovery room.”

They found an all-night dive, grabbed some horrible coffee and nearly stale sandwiches. At one point, she caught Flint staring at her and he did give a sheepish grin. Never in uniform, in public – she wasn't expecting him to make any grand proclamations, and certainly not in a dump. And they remained professional at the diner, back at the hospital and as they walked with Snake Eyes – now joined by Stalker and the others – back to one of his hidey holes in the city.

Once in their hotel room, they were both quiet at first. Scarlett's prognosis wasn't good, and seeing her after surgery hadn't lifted anyone's spirits. Lady Jaye was the first to speak, the first one to break the cardinal unspoken rule – she admitted how she felt. It started suddenly, and she found herself unable to stop once she started. She told Flint simply that she loved him, had loved him for some time and would probably love him always. She wanted him to know in case anything ever happened, wanted him to know how happy he had made her feel. His completely stunned silence made her wish she could take the words back – at least until he got up, walked to her and gave her the longest, tenderest kiss they'd ever shared. More followed, and it wasn't long before they were in bed.

Then he rolled over and went to sleep.

She hadn't been upset at the time. They were both physically and emotionally spent from the hospital vigil. And it would have been the best sex of their relationship if they hadn't been so tired. But the next morning, he didn't say anything. Or the next day, or the next … the entire time they stayed with Snake Eyes, Flint never said a word about how he felt.

When they got to Sierra Gordo, they ended up working with the October Guard and Gorky was there. Maybe her mother was right; maybe she did enjoy the attention too much. But it was such a change to be with a man who's idea of flirting was to enumerate her good qualities instead of telling her she was lucky to be with him.

Flint had been so angry. And maybe her mother was right again. Maybe Flint felt she'd been playing him along, saying how much she loved him, and then flirting with Gorky not that long afterward. Ah, damn it all to hell. Why did things always have to be so complicated with him?

Noticing her mother watching her with concern, Lady Jaye forced herself to smile, even if it wasn't the most convincing. “I think he does love me. He's not the most talkative person when it comes to his emotions.”

“At least I have something I can tell your father. He did send me to this tea to grill you,” Elizabeth teased, stopping when her daughter stood up quickly.

“Mom, don't say anything, but get everyone out of here,” Lady Jaye said quietly, standing up as she watched the waiters spread out. She might be overreacting, but it looked like they were getting into position to block the exits from the room. “Now!”

To her credit, Elizabeth didn't argue, recognizing the urgency in her daughter's voice. She quickly crossed the room, stopping at various tables and whispering hurried comments as she made her way to Adele's table.

For her part, Lady Jaye strode to the terrace. There was no way she could overwhelm all the waiters, not if they all came at her at once, but she could create a distraction for the others to get away.

“Everyone sit down! My boy here isn't in a good mood!” barked a voice from behind her, and Lady Jaye froze.

It was Zarana.

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

Lady Jaye ducked back behind the large potted plants, stealing a quick glance through the foliage. As she feared, it was Zarana. Road Pig appeared to be the only other member of the Dreadnoks with her, but that fact didn't inspire a lot of confidence. As their prior encounters had demonstrated, the two women were roughly equal in fighting skills, and Zarana had backup.

Her real concern wasn't with herself – the important thing was to protect her family. Zarana had once stolen Lady Jaye's personnel file to impersonate her, so she knew her real name. If she realized the other women out there were relatives … it was thought she didn't want to contemplate. She'd seen the carnage the pink-haired harpy had left when bored. Lady Jaye didn't want to imagine what Zarana would do if it she made it personal.

What were they even doing here? The latest Intelligence had Zarana laying low after Snake Eyes had burned down the Cobra consulate in New York. She was on Cobra Commander's bad side, which explained her lack of support. Road Pig would follow her anywhere, but Zartan was more politic, family or not.

“Get those Verndts busy!” Zarana snapped. “I want the loot bagged up before the local fuzz get word of us.”

Ah, it made sense now. Hooking up with a local gang to rob rich tourists was an old standby of the Dreadnoks. They'd get the locals to set it up, show up at end with the muscle, steal all the cash and leave the locals to take the blame. Zarana was probably running low on funds and needed a quick mark.

_What variant of Murphy's Law had her pick the same resort my family was visiting?_

Okay, her family members could deal with robbery. The jewelry was insured and replaceable, but you only had one life. They'd play it cool, calmly handing over whatever valuables they had on them. If the police weren't successful later, well, that's why you hired private detectives to resolve things.

The only flaw was Zarana knew Lady Jaye. The Dreadnoks would leave immediately after the robbery in normal circumstances, but her presence ruined that. If nothing else, Zarana would want payback for their last encounter.

But how to avoid them? There was nowhere to hide in this room. The plants were a momentary screen at best. There was no way to sneak over to one of the other doors. Even if she made it to the terrace, she didn't have any climbing gear and her heels were worthless for scaling a seaside cliff. Besides, Road Pig would follow anyone escaping just out of spite.

So, what did that leave? She'd have to hide in plain sight. That meant convincing the Verndts she was one of them. Hopefully, none of them had paid enough attention to realize she was a native English speaker. She'd only had minimum contact with two of the waiters, and they were both in the rear of the room, blocking the main doorway.

Verndts, though – where had she heard that before?

The Borovia files! They were one of the country's minor ethnic groups, too small to be of any importance to either of the main separatists. And since they had no importance, they were an easy target. It was simple to see why members would agree to a raid like this. It would take large sums of money to get their families out of the country and somewhere safe.

She quickly recalled what little she knew about the Verndts. Germanic ethnicity in the old Austro-Hungarian Empire, ties to Italy in those days. That explained why they were here. What about the language? She'd only caught a few words in it, and there were more than two hundred German dialects. She tried to recall where the group originated. Would they speak Alemannic? Even that had subgroups. She wasn't completely sure, but she didn't have a lot choice.

Alemannic – she'd have to include a lot of diminutives, use the full High German consonant shift, and watch the fricatives and palatal consonants. Oh, and the monophthongs – she'd have to pay attention to what the other Verndts were using.

_Why would a Verndt be in a place like this? Mistress? No, maybe if it was one-on-one. Nanny? That could work; the Verndts weren't known to be very successful, mainly peasants in the old days and low-wage factory workers now. I'd be a working girl of some sort._

After ditching her purse and ID in a gap in the rattan pot, she observed the man who appeared to be the head Verndt. He was nearly as old as her father, and he wore a wedding band. _Go for the paternal instinct?_ _Family is important to them. I can always change tack if that doesn't work._

Quickly, she buttoned her blouse all the way up and pushed up her sleeves. She pulled her blouse out slightly on one side and ran her hands through her hair. A few minutes with a mirror and makeup would have helped a lot, but she'd have to make do with that she had.

When she had stepped behind the potted plants, Lady Jaye had been the epitome of a socialite – confident, demure, poised and well-groomed. The woman who stepped out and made her way toward the apparent leader of the Verndts was someone completely different. This was a woman from the lower classes, not totally at ease as she played dress up. Her shoulders slouched, ruining her posture. She walked nervously, not sure of her position, and she went through the motions of chewing gum, although she didn't have any. The combined effect knocked several years off her apparent age as long as no one paid too much attention to her.

_Please, Mom, keep cool. Trust me that I know what I'm doing._

“What's all this, then?” she said, hoping her dialect was close enough. When the head Verndt stared at her, she smiled nervously and twisted a lock of her hair.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” he barked back.

“Greta. I work for a doctor. They're here on holiday and I watch the kids.”

“Ha!”

_Damn! They're using some variant of Alemmanic – the phrasing is different. He's not buying my act. Okay, don't panic._

“It's been too long since I heard anyone speak right. My parents died so long ago,” she said, dropping her head in apparent embarrassment. “I must sound stupid.”

“Where are you from?” he asked, and she hid her grin at his kinder tone. Paternal was definitely the right choice.

“I was born in Borovia, the capital, Krogdnz, but we moved a lot when I was little. Dusseldorf, Leipzig and then to Weisbaden,” she said, hoping the different locales would cover any mistakes in her dialect. “Dad had to leave home to follow the jobs. After my folks died, I had to get whatever job I could.”

“Hey, get to work,” Zarana barked as she walked toward them. Lady Jaye turned her head away, and stepped closer to the man, as if seeking protection. He instinctively moved between her and Zarana. For her part, the Dreadnok let out a sneering laugh and threw a bag at his head. “Entertainment on your own time, mate! We got work to do.”

Lady Jaye waited until Zarana had walked away before she lifted her head up, thankful that she was in a hurry and not watching any one person carefully. It was one thing to fool someone you'd never met before, but she knew her act wouldn't work with either of the bikers.

“Who is she to talk to you like that?” she said, stroking the man's ego with her indignant tone.

“Ah, a nobody. Hey, let me have your jewelry. I'll give it back later, little one,” he said, resting his hand on her shoulder.

_I can only imagine what great-granny is thinking! I'm never going to live this one down. Fifty years from now, at Hart-Burnett reunions everywhere, they're still going to be talking about that time Alison got a n armed robber to threat her like a little kid._

She'd deal with any personal embarrassment later. The key now was to keep the Dreadnoks from recognizing her. She'd figure out how to explain her behavior later. The only thing that mattered at the moment was keeping her family safe.

If the Dreadnoks kept to their normal modus operandi, they'd promise to meet later to split up the goods. Zarana and Road Pig would take all the riches, though, and leave the Verndts with bags of gravel. The Dreadnoks would then drive through the night, being far away before the locals realized they had been swindled and having to face the police alone.

Maybe she could get the police involved earlier. If she could get this guy alone, she'd have no trouble incapacitating him. It would be wonderful if the two thugs ended up in prison where they belonged.

“I don't like that man. He's scary,” she said, nodding in Road Pig's direction. “Let's get out of here.”

“I have work to do, little one. These freaks are helping us get money to help our people. They're going to help us get them out of Borovia.”

_What? Since when did the Dreadnoks deal in human trafficking? Eh, it's probably a lie to convince these guys to help them. I'll have to check into that, though. No way that would end well for their 'passengers' if they got involved._

“I don't trust them. They look like the criminals the police in Germany were looking for,” she said. It never hurt to sow some dissension in the ranks.

“We're all criminals here,” he stated sadly. “It's the only way to save our families.”

She nodded, and it wasn't entirely fake sympathy. The Verdnts were probably being slaughtered during the ethnic violence, but that didn't justify robbing others to help. It was hard to make that distinction, though, when it was your family being butchered.

He was watching her carefully. It didn't take an Intelligence agent to understand his concerns. She was a loose end, and while he was kind, he wasn't going to risk this operation over her.

“I understand. My mother's family still lives in Upper Borovia. I won't interfere,” she lied smoothly. “Get as many of our people out as you can.”

“Thank you,” he said, patting her affectionately on the shoulder.

For her part, Lady Jaye kept her amusement hidden. For a cover developed on the spot, this was working out better than she had hoped. She preferred more time and background information before coming up with a character, but she only had to fool them for a short while. As long as they didn't ask too many questions, she'd be fine.

Risking a glance over her shoulder, she saw her family had been rounded up into one corner. Everyone seemed fine, albeit with various degrees of nervousness and anger. Good. If everyone stayed calm, this would work. She'd call the police as soon as the robbers left and contact headquarters to let them know the Dreadnoks were involved. She hated the idea of letting Zarana and Road Pig get away, but she wasn't going to put civilians at risk, especially her own family.

The other waiters moved through the crowd quickly, gathering cash, watches and jewelry from the various people in the room. They weren't completely comfortable with their actions, Lady Jaye noticed. They were hesitant, clearly embarrassed at being reduced to robbery. Road Pig's presence kept them focused on the job, and he collected the sacks from the others. Luckily, none of her relatives resisted.

“All right, let's get this loot together,” Zarana said, and Lady Jaye watched as Road Pig switched out the bags containing the stolen goods with bags from his rucksack. Those would be the ones containing gravel, and they'd make sure the Verndts got those when they divvied up the pile.

A hand reached over and lifted her chin. The head Verndt was giving her a friendly look. “Come with us, little one. We'll make sure any family you have left gets out of Borovia.”

_Well, damn. How often does a disguise work too well? Of course I picked the friendly terrorist to chat up._

“I can't,” she lied, hoping he didn't press the issue.

“Why not?”

_Double damn._

“My little brother is in a hospital in Germany. I need to go back to him. He doesn't have anyone else.”

She thought he was buying her excuse when one of the other waiters let out a yell.

“What?” Zarana demanded, running to the window. She then turned to the head Verndt. “Where the hell is our getaway van?”

Lady Jaye kept her head down and avoided looking at the Dreadnoks. Blast! This had been going so well. A simple robbery was an easy situation to handle – they'd be on their way before they realized a Joe was in here with them. The longer they stayed, the lower her chances of avoiding their attention.

“Hans left it out there! Are you looking in the right spot?” the head Verndt barked back.

The pair continued arguing, and Lady Jaye used the diversion to inch her way over to the window. A quick look outside showed nothing – all the hotel's employees, maintenance equipment, lawn furniture and vehicles were off in the distance. Staring, she had to fight back a curse. There had been a momentary flash of light from behind one of the vehicles, and she knew what caused it: light reflecting off a rifle scope. Someone had had the grounds cleared to give police snipers a clear view of this room.

_That's not good news._

Normally, she'd appreciate a fast police presence, but this was uncanny. The hotel was outside of town. Even if the police had been called immediately after the robbery started, they couldn't have gotten here this fast. Something else must have brought them to the area, but a panicked Zarana complicated things. To make things worse, one of the waiters had noticed activity from his position by the terrace windows and yelled to let the others know the police were on the scene.

“What the hell did you do? Did one of your idiots brag about this to his buddies?” Zarana demanded as she marched towards the head Verndt.

“We did nothing but what you told us to do!”

Risking a glance toward her family, she briefly caught her mother's eye. Lady Jaye gave her a shushing gesture and her mother moved her head in a barely noticeable nod. Sure her family weren't going to give away her disguise, she tried to think of a new plan. A hostage situation was far more dangerous to her family, and she needed to find a way to resolve this before someone got trigger-happy out there.

“You should get out while you can,” she whispered to the head Verndt when he joined her by the window. “Everyone should take part of the loot and go in different directions. They can't chase you all.”

“Chase? Maybe not. Shoot us? I think they could.”

“What are you two yapping about?” Zarana demanded.

“ _We_ are trying to think of a way to fix _your_ mistake,” he answered shortly.

_No, no, no! Don't get her interested in me! It's not like I have a real disguise going on here._

“Aren't there tunnels out of the basement?” she lied quickly. “The children said the concierge mentioned something about them. Left over from the war.”

It was a vague enough lie to get the waiters talking, and it wasn't even outside the realm of possibility. Lots of upper-class establishments in the area used to have hidey holes and escape tunnels. Of course, those were for the guests to escape the criminals, not for the criminals to use to avoid the police, but Lady Jaye wasn't particular at that point.

“We don't know where they lead,” one of the waiters pointed out, but the head Verndt waved him off.

“It won't be to the police,” he said. “They probably lead to the coast, a little protected cove a boat could hide in. We'll go that way, split up and meet back at the border, like we originally planned.”

“Says who?” Road Pig asked. “Zarana makes all the plans here.”

“Like she's done well so far!”

“Don't you speak about my sweet like that,” the massive Dreadnok growled.

“Quiet, Road Pig! Let me think. We don't even know that there are tunnels. They aren't real just because she thinks they exist,” Zarana said.

“Of course there are tunnels. This used to be a contraband safe house for the Mafia,” said another female voice, and Lady Jaye felt her anger rise. “I'm surprised you need a G.I. Joe to tell you that, since this was your plan.”

Lady Jaye turned around, eyes glaring as the Baroness entered from a side doorway.

“What the hell?” Zarana screamed in anger, stalking across the room to drag Lady Jaye away from the window, her fist already pulled back for a punch. “You set us up, you bitch!”

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

“Zarana,wait!” Road Pig roared before she could land another blow, physically pulling her away from Lady Jaye. “You know what Cobra Commander said would happen if you got the Joes angry again. He was most upset when the consulate burned down.”

“That wasn't my fault!” she snapped.

“Do you think he really cares who is responsible when he assigns blame?” he answered, and Lady Jaye realized Donald, Road Pig's other personality had come out. While nowhere near as vicious, this persona was dangerously logical and clear-headed, not to mention equally devoted to the pink-haired biker. In his own way, Donald was as much a threat as Road Pig and harder to deceive.

“What is going on?” the head Verndt yelled as he grabbed Lady Jaye's arms to help steady her. She let him support her weight, although the blow hadn't been that bad. Her lip was bleeding freely, but she'd rolled her head with the punch, blunting most of the damage. Still, it never hurt to play up the sympathies of the Verndts or let Zarana think she'd been hurt.

“You stupid idiot! She's lying to you,” Zarana yelled, pacing the room nervously. “She's an anti-terrorist specialist with the U.S. Army.”

“Greta? What is she saying, little one?”

Lady Jaye didn't answer immediately, trying to gauge the situation. Her family had overheard Zarana's comment, and they were staring in quiet fascination. They should have enough sense to remain silent, realizing that drawing any attention to their true relationship put them all in danger. Still, there was no mistaking the near-panic in her mother's expression.

Sensing things were getting worse, the other waiters left their positions by the doors and windows, uncertain what was going on or what to do next.

_Yeah, these guys are definitely amateurs. How can I use that to my advantage? I need to even the odds before someone gets the bright idea to use my family as hostages._

“Greta? He thinks you're a Verndt. Oh, that's delicious,” the Baroness said dryly.

Lady Jaye glared at her, fighting to keep her anger at bay. Scarlett might be out of a coma, and for some reason Snake Eyes hadn't killed the Baroness when he had the chance, but none of that changed the hatred she felt for the leather-clad bitch.

“Or he knows exactly who she is,” Donald said in his soft voice. “Someone had to call the police before we started for them to have had time to respond so quickly.”

“Why would we do that?” the Verndt leader shot back. “We are trying to save our families! We need this money. What good comes from calling the police?”

“Yeah, that's true,” Zarana said, stopping in front of Lady Jaye to stare at her for a long beat. “This is your doing.”

“What is she saying?” Lady Jaye asked in German, to all appearances completely baffled.

“Knock off the act!” she said, backhanding her across the mouth.

“Do that again at your own peril. Our partnership has limits,” the Verndt warned in a low tone.

“She's not one of you. Don't you understand anything?” Zarana asked, pausing in her pacing to stare at them.

The Baroness chuckled briefly, taking a moment to scan the crowd. Lady Jaye saw her pause when her gaze reached Elizabeth Hart-Burnett, and the terrorist did glance back at Alison with a questioning look.

_I have to get their attention back on me!_

"Let's get out of here. They're trying to set you up,” she said to the Verndts urgently.

“I told you to drop the act. What the hell are you doing here?” Zarana asked again, yanking her away from the Verndt. Donald grabbed her arm before she could draw her gun and she glared at him for a moment before letting go of Lady Jaye and stalking away.

_I don't know what Cobra Commander threatened her with, but it's working to my advantage. She's not going to kill me – at least not right away._

_Way to look on the bright side, Alison._

“Zarana, my dear, think about this. If she knew we were coming, she wouldn't be in here alone …”

“Look outside, Donald! She's not alone!”

“She wouldn't be in here alone with a bunch of civilians,” he continued calmly. “Where are the other Joes? Why isn't she armed?”

“What is going on?” the head Verndt asked. “Greta, do you know these people?”

“I told you her name isn't Greta!” Zarana yelled. “Didn't you listen to me? You Verndts are dumber than your reputation!”

The waiters pulled their knives out and started mumbling among themselves. Donald moved to stand between Zarana and the others, leaning in to whisper to her. “Perhaps it would be prudent to continue this conversation in a more private location.”

“Yeah, this room is too exposed. Let's check out that way. Grab her,” she said, heading to the side entrance the Baroness had used earlier. She glared at the other Verndts. “Keep an eye on those people! We might need hostages to get out.”

Leaving the waiters to watch over the guests, the others entered a narrow gallery used to move food from the kitchen to the tearoom and terrace. It was littered with odd chairs, tables and neatly stacked boxes, with assorted plants in various states of regrowth sitting under the windows. From the cigarette butts in the containers and the lingering smell, Lady Jaye guessed it also served as a break area for the workers.

“Where does that go?” Donald asked, pointing to section of wainscoting opening onto a set of hidden steps.

“That leads to the cellars. There are tunnels to the stables,” the Baroness said in a bored tone of voice.

Donald shoved Lady Jaye into an old wooden chair in front of a window, using the curtain sash to tie her down. He worked quickly, not having enough cord to do more than secure her arms to the sides of the chair.

When he pushed her chair back under the window, she bit back a yelp of pain as her hands hit something hot. Running her fingers delicately over it, she realized it was a spotlight highlighting the collection of plants behind her. It was an educated guess, but she shifted its position so it shone out of the window.

She quietly and gradually hitched her chair to reach the light's power cord as the Dreadnoks and the Verndt leader argued. Running it through her fingers, she smiled to herself when she found the power switch. When the argument became heated, she used the distraction to flash out short bursts of Morse code, hoping someone outside could see it. Lady Jaye knew she wouldn't have much time, so her first message mentioned the passageways.

Unfortunately, the Baroness looked up just as she was finishing a word. Pushing off from the wall on which she had been leaning, she strolled casually to look out of the window behind Lady Jaye. “Tsk, tsk. The ambulances are leaving ruts in the roque courts. It's so hard to find such nice roque courts these days.”

Lady Jaye kept her expression neutral, certain the Baroness had noticed her attempts to signal the authorities. For her part, the Baroness glanced down, cocking her eyebrow in approval when she saw the spotlight. Smiling, she returned to her position on the other wall.

_What the hell? Why didn't she rat me out? If she thinks she's going to get brownie points for this … Wait, don't let anger cloud my judgment – did the Baroness contact the police? Someone did, and she's the logical choice. Neither the Verndts or the Dreadnoks were expecting it. Okay, I could see her double-crossing Zarana and Road Pig, but why would she put herself in the line of fire?_

The approach of the head Verndt cut her line of thought short. It was clear he didn't know what to do, and he was watching her with a mix of anger, fear and confusion.

“Are you who they say your are?”

“Who are they saying I am?” she answered, still using the German dialect.

“I think you know very well! Are you lying to me? Why?”

The Baroness, leaning against the wall and cleaning her under her nails with a knife, just laughed.

“How about I grab one of those civilians out there and start cutting them open?” Zarana growled. “Why are you here? Who tipped you off about our plans?”

“I'm just here on vacation,” Lady Jaye said simply in English. The threat to her family – even if the others didn't realize who they were – was enough for her to drop her charade. She turned her attention to the Verdnt. “I didn't know anything about your plans until the robbery started.”

“Ha!” Zarana said, adding in a punch to her ribs as an afterthought. “Like you could afford a place like this on a soldier's salary!”

“I always wondered,” the Baroness interjected as she examined her nails. “I know the United States military pays a bonus to soldiers who are fluent in another language. Is that a one-time bonus, or do you get one for every language you speak?”

“What? Cobra don't pay nothing like that! Zartan should be rolling in more money with his skills,” she said angrily.

“Just figuring out your loser family picked the wrong side?” Lady Jaye expected the resulting blow, but she didn't care. As long as they were focused on her, her family was out of danger. Time was running out for the Dreadnoks, and she knew they would have to make a move to escape soon.

“Who is this Zartan? What is going on?” the head Verndt demanded, bending over Lady Jaye and staring at her in growing anger and doubt.

“Check the bags. There's no jewelry in any of it. They were going to take everything and leave you to take the blame,” she said in German. He stared at her in shock before moving to the door and barking orders to the waiters.

Already nervous, one of the waiters dropped to his knees by the pile of loot, taking one of the small bags and dumping its contents on the floor. Several metal washers and ball bearings fell out along with some gravel. He quickly opened more of the bags, and Donald took up position in front of Zarana as the waiters again pulled out their knives and headed into the gallery.

The Baroness, meanwhile, buffed her nails with a bored air.

“The jewelry is in his rucksack,” Lady Jaye said. “They never planned on helping you.”

“I think it is time we took the money and try to get out of here,” the head Verndt said, nodding to the other waiters who carefully moved closer to the hulking form of Donald. “Whatever you have going on between you – that is not our concern.”

“Just give them the money, Donald! We have to think of a way out of this mess,” Zarana said, pausing in her pacing long enough to punch Lady Jaye in the stomach.

“If you say so, my love.” He tossed the real bags at the approaching waiters who opened one to verify they contained the stolen goods before they dashed through the hidden stairwell.

“I don't believe you're here on vacation,” Zarana spit out. “It's too much of a coincidence.”

“Tell me about it,” Lady Jaye said dryly, turning her head toward the Baroness. “Who else knew you'd be here?”

“What? You?” Zarana sputtered angrily before slamming yet another punch into Lady Jaye's shoulder. “She wouldn't be here if she turned us in.”

“Why are you here?” Lady Jaye asked in honest confusion. She knew the Baroness had to have called the authorities; no one else made sense. But she was in here with the Dreadnoks, and while brave, the Baroness wasn't one to needlessly risk her life.

“I'm still waiting for my file,” she said, giving Zarana a pointed look. “You wanted access to my contacts in Borovia, and I provided them.”

“Our deal was to give it to you after we were done here,” Donald said, looming over her.

“Oh, it doesn't matter. Just give it to her if it'll shut her up,” Zarana said, looking out of a window to check the area.

“I trust this is the only copy. Normally, I wouldn't bother with such an amateurish demand, but the timing now is … delicate … and I prefer Destro not know about these photographs.”

_Zarana blackmailed the Baroness? How desperate – or stupid – is she?_

“Then don't leave photos with your plans to exploit refugees laying about,” Zarana said distractedly, standing on her tiptoes to get a better view outside.

_Stupid. She is stupid. The Baroness would never leave something like that around. And she sides with the underdogs. The Baroness would be getting weapons to the Verndts, not trying to exploit them. Was all this a setup to get Zarana?_

_Is she here because she needs that file or for some other reason? Does it really matter? This was all a game on her part, and my family got sucked into it._

Lady Jaye turned her attention to the Dreadnoks, noticing both of them were getting nervous. This could go either way. They could make a mistake or get excessively violent. She needed to keep them focused on her and not the other guests.

Zarana let out a long curse that impressed Lady Jaye with its creativity. “They're getting ready to do something out there – they're bringing in more equipment.”

“Not any equipment. Those are other Joes out there!”

So, the local police must have contacted higher authorities, and the staging area in Germany was only a short flight away. The team knew she was here, and they'd want to check it out themselves.

“I knew it was you!” Zarana screamed. “What are you doing here?”

Lady Jaye grinned broadly. Maybe she could use their nervousness against them. “Just stalling long enough for Snake Eyes to get into position?” she said brightly, delighted at the look of terror her statement produced.

“Zarana, we're leaving now! You can't be here if he's around. You barely got away the last time,” Donald said, pushing her towards the rear door and away from the hidden stairs. “Those Verndts are going to draw everyone's attention to the stables. Let's go down the cliff.”

“Wait,” she said, smiling evilly as she passed boxes of liquor stored near the doorway. She quickly fashioned a Molotov cocktail and set the room on fire on their way out. “A little distraction will help us!”

Studying her knife, the Baroness strolled casually to stand in front of Lady Jaye as she frantically tried to free herself from the cord holding her to the chair. Looking up, her blood went cold as the Baroness raised her knife.

“I had so hoped those two Neanderthals would die in a shootout with the police. I wanted to do something special for Destro's birthday,” the Baroness said in disappointment. “Still, something good can still come of this.”

Instead of attacking, the Baroness slammed the knife into the table beside Lady Jaye. The smoke was quickly filling the room, making it hard to see and breathe. Suddenly, her chair was knocked over and the Baroness loomed over her, her boot lifted up.

“For all his good qualities, Destro has a most unfortunate sense of honor. He believes he is in your debt after you helped him escape from his false imprisonment,” she said, stomping down forcefully. The chair back splintered, and Lady Jaye began to frantically try to free her arms from the sash. “As far as I'm concerned, that debt has now been repaid in full.”

The Baroness paused for a moment before retrieving the knife and walking away. Scrambling on the floor, Lady Jaye stared at her retreating form. “You could at least give me a knife to cut the ropes with!”

“Do you think I'm stupid?”

“Very!”

The Baroness looked over her shoulder in amusement, walking away calmly. “My affection for Destro and relieving him of his debt only goes so far. Still, I believe it is time for me to leave, running and shrieking in terror from the Joes. Yes, shriek, shriek, run, run, shriek, shriek.”

She continued on her way towards a section of wall opposite the hidden door, revealing a second one. The Baroness gave her an odd look. “Were you truly here on vacation? I must admit your appearance forced me to change my plans to get rid of those morons.”

“Yes!”

“I'm surprised. I didn't think your taste was so good,” she said, her expression unreadable. “Do tell Scarlett I said hello.”

Coughing as the smoke continued to fill the room, Lady Jaye fought down her pain as she worked herself loose. Individually, the punches from Zarana hadn't been too bad, but the combined effect had her moving sluggishly. The lack of breathable air also hindered her attempts to get away from the approaching flames.

As she got her arm free from the last bit of cord, a fierce round of coughing started. Staying on the floor, she started to crawl towards the tearoom and her family, but the flames blocked her way. Lady Jaye turned toward the closest window, moving as fast as she could. If all went well, her family had gotten out once the waiters left them alone, but she desperately needed to verify that.

She was a few feet from the window when the glass explode, sending shards in every direction.

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

The influx of fresh air fueled the flames in the gallery, increasing both the smoke and heat in the room. Lady Jaye immediately started moving toward the broken window, and she was climbing up the windowsill when someone grabbed her, pulling her to the outside. An arm wrapped under her shoulders, helping her up and dragging her away from the burning building.

Fighting down a coughing spasm, Lady Jaye pulled free and headed toward the tearoom her family had been in. They should have been able to make it to the terrace, and from there to the grounds, but she had to check. She only made it a few steps before her rescuer seized her arm again, this time yelling, “They're safe. We got them out first.”

Looking up, she noticed the crowds on the far side of the lawns, with an abundance of emergency personnel milling around the stunned guests. “Your family is safe,” her rescuer said again, this time her Southern accent registering with Lady Jaye.

_Am I hallucinating?_

“You … hospital … coma …”

“I got better,” Scarlett said, slipping her arm around her friend's waist to help support her.

“What about the Verndts? The robbers,” she clarified when Scarlett stared at her in confusion.

“Holed up in the stables. We'll get them.”

“No guns. Only knives,” Lady Jaye said, a fresh coughing spasm stopping her report.

Scarlett tugged to get her moving again. “Come on. Let's get Doc to check you out.”

_Damn! They're getting away._

She shook her head as she tried to catch her breath. “Zarana?”

“What? The Dreadnoks were here?”

“Just her and Road Pig. Went down the cliff. Fire was a diversion.”

Scarlett nodded, then called out loudly. “Breaker! Over here! Dreadnoks went down the cliff.”

Their communications specialist ran towards them, ahead of the firefighters pulling heavy fire hoses. When he reached them, Breaker handed Lady Jaye the mask from a portable oxygen tank, which she took with a grateful smile. He went to her other side, helping Scarlett support her and using his free hand to radio in a report on the bikers.

As they cleared the smoke from the fire, she noticed they were heading toward an outbuilding being used as a triage center. Her first reaction was relief – only Doc and some ambulance attendants were there, with no signs that anyone else had been treated.

“Family?” she got out as she took a seat on a gurney.

“So far, you're the only casualty,” Doc said, quickly checking her pupils and the injuries to her head.

“I'm okay,” she told the team doctor, pulling the oxygen mask from her mouth. She rolled her eyes when the coughing started again. “Some smoke inhalation.”

“How observant,” he said dryly, putting the mask back before cutting off her charred blouse and listening to her breathing.

“You're going to have a lot of bruising,” Scarlett noted, frowning at the multiple red marks already showing up. “What happened in there? Why didn't you tell us you were planning on taking on the Dreadnoks alone? Why the bloody hell _were_ you planning on taking on the Dreadnoks alone?”

“I wasn't, and I didn't send the message,” she said, frowning as she noticed Scarlett's panting; she might be back on missions, but she wasn't back to full strength yet. Lady Jaye held out the mask to her, and after a moment, the redhead took several several deep breaths of oxygen before handing the mask back.

“Thanks. Someone informed the local officials a terrorist attack was going to happen. If it wasn't you, who sent it?” Scarlett asked, hopping on the gurney beside her.

_What do I tell her? She's in no condition to go after the Baroness._

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Lady Jaye said.

She narrowed her eyes and spoke levelly. “Try me.”

“The Baroness.” Lady Jaye shrugged her shoulders at her look of disbelief. She then passed the oxygen mask back to Scarlett. “Sorry I couldn't kill her.”

“That explains the Cobra chopper that took off from the roof,” Breaker said as he walked over with a wet towel. “It was out of range before we could get a lock on it. We'll get her next time, Red.”

“Yeah.” She gave Lady Jaye a long look before smiling. “You're damned lucky to be alive.”

After a moment's consideration, she decided to tell her the truth; Scarlett would read her debriefing sooner or later. “The Baroness saved my life, actually. Her original plan was to set up Zarana, but then she realized I was in there. She figures she repaid Destro's debt of honor for the time Flint and I broke him out of prison.”

“By saving you from a trap she set in the first place? I bet Destro won't agree with her,” Scarlett said eventually.

_She's taking this better than I expected. I figured she'd want revenge._

“Okay, you managed not to break any ribs for a change. Hmm, you won't need any stitches,” Doc said, examining the cuts on her face more closely before taping them shut. “ Stay still, catch your breath, and get cleaned up before your family gets here.”

“Speaking of which, they're on their way now,” Breaker said, handing her the towel. “Cross Country was rounding up a wheelchair for your granny? Adele, I think.”

“Great-granny,” she said, handing the oxygen mask to Scarlett while she wiped the blood away from her face. “You have time to escape. Trust me – she's a force of nature.”

“Oh, that's not going to happen. We left you alone long enough to take a vacation, and you start an international incident,” Scarlett joked.

“Just what the hell are _you_ doing here anyway?” Lady Jaye finally demanded.

Scarlett raised her eyebrows. “Well, it's nice to see you, too. Here I thought you'd be happy to see me,” she said, a hint of a smile playing around her lips. “Especially since I had to rescue you – again.”

“I thought you didn't keep track of that type of stuff. Besides, I saved you last time,” Lady Jaye teased back.

“I don't think so. But Stalker told me you and Flint looked after Snake Eyes when I was in the hospital. Thank you,” she said sincerely.

“I'm surprised Snake Eyes let you out of his sight.”

Scarlett shrugged. “He's busy taking care of Storm Shadow.”

She stopped wiping away grime and blood long enough to give the redhead a concerned look. “Why? What happened to him?”

“I stabbed him,” Scarlett stated simply as she handed the oxygen mask back.

Lady Jaye took another deep breath of oxygen before fixing her friend with a steady glare. “I've always said you're very cranky when you wake up.”

“Oh, laugh it up, buddy,” Scarlett said to Breaker who was chortling happily as he dug through the supplies trying to find something for Lady Jaye to wear.

Their joking was broken up by the sound of people rushing into the triage area. Alpine and Thunder were helping an injured firefighter, and Scarlett slid off the gurney as Lady Jaye's parents rushed to her side.

“Alison!”

_Now the fun starts …_

“Hi, Mom, Dad. Some day, huh?”

Her father already had his sports coat off, wrapping it around her shoulders gently. “What did they do to you, my baby doll?”

“Daddy!” she exclaimed in embarrassment. He'd been using that nickname her whole life, but it wasn't something the team needed to learn about. She narrowed her eyes when Breaker started laughing quietly. “Not a word to anyone.”

“It's a secret I'll take to my grave,” Breaker said, winking at her. “Baby doll.”

_Yeah, that's going to get around base when he gets back from the Trucial Abysmia mission. They saved my family; I can't complain if they make a joke at my expense. I'll have to do something to thank them later._

“Is everyone all right? No one was hurt, were they?” she asked around her parents' hugs.

“You!”

“I'm fine, Mom,” Lady Jaye said, taking care not to wince. “Nothing a shower won't take care of.”

“Dear, we are happier than you cam imagine to hear that, but don't think for a moment you're going to get away without some sort of explanation. You knew that, that,” Elizabeth Hart-Burnett said, struggling to find an acceptable word.

“Technically, 'woman' works,” Alison said, looking at Scarlett. “Zarana blew my cover.”

She just rolled her shoulders. “It happens.”

“The robbers were ethnic Verndts. Their people are getting slaughtered in Borovia, and they're trying to get money to get them out of the country. The others were people I've run into before,” she told her parents.

“I think that is probably a gross understatement given her reaction to you. You really work in an anti-terrorist unit?” she asked before looking at the other Joes in the room. “Unless your friends are all 'personnel clerks' as well.”

“Oh, no, ma'am. I'm an accountant,” Alpine said, pausing in the inspection of his ropes long enough to shake hands with Richard Hart-Burnett and then his wife.

“I'm a drummer in the Army band,” Thunder said, giving them a salute before leaving.

“I'm a doctor,” Doc said as he finished with the injured firefighter.

“Don't bother asking,” Lady Jaye said when her parents turned their attention to Scarlett. “She won't tell you. But she's a good friend when she's in the mood.”

“Be nice, or I can share some stories about you and Flint that _Daddy_ won't want to hear,” she whispered before giving the Hart-Burnetts a smile. “I'm in Intelligence as well. I'm sure you understand why we don't advertise what we do.”

“Just tell me today isn't a typical day,” Richard urged, kissing the top of his daughter's head.

“No, it's not,” she said, her lips twitching slightly. Her family really didn't need to know any more details; they were already upset enough.

They talked quietly for a few moments until Duke joined them. He waited until Doc reassured him that Lady Jaye was fine, asked her a few questions and mentioned the Verndts had surrendered. The firefighters had the flames under control and damage was limited to a small area of the hotel. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Zarana or Road Pig, but the authorities had been alerted. He then asked her parents to not share any details of her career, and let them know she was a valued team member when a bellow from outside caught their attention.

“Richard!” They all turned to see Cross Country pushing a wheelchair-bound Adele Hart-Burnett toward the triage area. She sat upright, her posture unyielding even as the chair bounced over ruts left by the emergency vehicles. Except for a few hairs out of place, there was no sign she had been held captive by terrorists earlier in the day.

“This is entirely your fault. I told you not to let Alison listen to Clarice's stories,” Adele said firmly before looking over her shoulder to address Cross Country in a more friendly manner. “Her great-aunt Clarice let the French Resistance hide in her home outside of Nice during the war, but you'd think she was Mata Hari based on her stories.”

“That was still a brave thing to do,” he answered in a friendly manner.

“Well, yes, but her stories were entirely inappropriate for a young girl. They gave Alison an unrealistic view of what that type of life was like.”

“Alison,” Cross Country said, flashing his teammate a wink, “knows how to take care of herself. I wouldn't want to get on her bad side.”

“Hmm!”

Alison slid off the gurney and knelt before her great-grandmother, taking her hands and squeezing them gingerly. “Are you all right?”

“I can assure you I have been in worse situations in my life. We will be discussing your career in more detail later, but introduce me to your friends, Alison.”

_If I didn't know better, I'd say she sounds impressed. Maybe it was being a 'clerk' that had her upset, not my being in the military._

The next several minutes were spent with introductions, and her family thanking each member of the team as they stopped by to check on Lady Jaye. She smiled as her mother kept giving her questioning looks at each male member.

“Here comes the young fellow who rescued us from the hotel,” Elizabeth said.

“You?” Lady Jaye asked, walking over to stand in front of him.

“I knew you'd be worried about your family and could take care of yourself,” Flint said with a lopsided grin. “Besides, you're always telling me I need to work on my first impressions.”

“That's true,” she agreed softly. He was seeing her injuries up close for the first time, and it was obvious – to her at least – that he was worried about her.

“What happened? The robbers were worried about 'Greta', and you look like hell,” he asked softly.

“Zarana wanted some payback,” she said, holding her hand out to stop his questioning. He ran his eyes over her, double-checking the extent of her injuries, clenching his fists, fighting to keep his cool. The lug-head might not say how he felt about her, but it was clear how much he cared. If they were alone, she had no doubt how he'd be reacting.

_I'll have to be sure to let him know how I feel about him when we get a moment alone. The big dingbat. He's upset and trying so hard not to show it._

She wasn't in uniform, and they weren't really in public. After a beat, she tugged on his shirt to get him to bend over.

“Thank you,” she whispered before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. When Flint realized this wasn't just a quick peck, he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss and ignoring the catcalls from the guys.

“He did have help, you know,” Alpine finally said. He held up his hands defensively when they broke the kiss to fix him with matching glares. “Just pointing out the facts.”

“Thank you, Alpine,” Lady Jaye said with a smile.

“And that's all the thanks you're getting,” Flint added, letting out a huff when she elbowed his stomach.

“What? No pizza even?” Alpine shook his head in disappointment.

Flint laughed as Lady Jaye slid her hand around his waist and leaned into him. He wasn't expecting her public display, but he did nothing to discourage it. “Tell you what – you find some place that delivers, and it's my treat,” he said.

“Nonsense! I believe we can do better than delivery pizza,” great-granny Adele insisted, using her cane to tap Cross Country on the shoulder. “Come along, young man. The hotel manager is by the entrance to the gardens.”

“Yes, ma'am!”

Adele held up her cane to signal him to stop in front of Flint, looking him over carefully for a moment. “Alison, we'll be expecting you and this young man at the symphony gala this summer. No excuses.”

“That's kind of you, ma'am, but I'm not sure we'll both be able to get off then.”

“It's a black tie dinner. Your dress uniform will suffice. Alison can fill you in on the details,” Adele directed, waving her cane as she looked over her shoulder. “You did say you're from Greensboro, didn't you? Do you know the McArthur family? They own a chain of grocery stores in your area.”

Cross Country started pushing her out of the room. “Over by Winston-Salem? I do believe my parents did some work for them, but I wouldn't say they cottoned to them.”

“I would hope not! They're horrible snobs. They like to pretend they're old money, but they made their fortune as bootleggers during Prohibition. Make sure you give Alison your parents' contact information. Our cousin Horace works for the state. I'll be sure to recommend them for any contracts that come up. ”

“Well, that's right kind of you, ma'am!”

“Don't be fooled,” Lady Jaye said quietly to Flint. “Horace is on her bad side. She'll want to get some information out of them in exchange for the recommendation.”

“She doesn't seem to understand what 'no' means, does she?” Flint asked.

“Oh, she understands perfectly. Great-granny just doesn't think it applies to her,” she answered, wincing slightly as he pulled her closer.

“Did you manage to break your ribs again?”

“What?” her parents asked in unison.

“So much for your first impressions. You started out so well, too,” she said, giving him a mock-glare. “Mom, Daddy, I'd like you to meet someone … special.”

After their introductions, her mother raised her eyebrows in approval while her father sized him up for a long moment. After shaking hands, Richard motioned to the outside. “I think it's time you and I had a talk about your intentions with my daughter.”

“Sir?” Flint looked surprised as Lady Jaye slipped away from him, her amusement at the situation clear. “I'm afraid now's not a great time. I have to finish the reports …”

“Oh, I'll take care of those, Flint,” Duke said, giving him a shove toward the entrance. “What are friends for? Go talk about your intentions.”

“Thanks, Duke. You're a real friend,” Flint muttered darkly.

Lady Jaye stopped her father, leaning in and whispering. “Don't scare him away, Daddy. I do love the big goofball.”

“Baby doll, you wouldn't be interested in anyone I could scare away.”

Lady Jaye smiled at Flint's look; he'd overheard her admission and was grinning happily, giving her a jaunty wave as he let himself be led away by her father.

_Maybe, just maybe, Daddy will have his chance to walk me down the aisle some day._

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it is totally stupid that Scarlett was up and about like that, but it's canon in the comic book.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N III: Roque was a short-lived variation of croquet. It features in the novel The Shining, hence the haunted mountain resort referenced earlier.


End file.
